


creatures and magic (and us)

by vannral



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Healing, Intimacy, Kissing, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Battle, Protectiveness, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 6,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8923657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vannral/pseuds/vannral
Summary: Short separate ficlets about the life of Newt and Credence; of love and adventures and feelings and very fantastic beasts.





	1. don't leave

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, I'm deciding to do this thing to unwind a bit - life's been very hectic and I pretty much need something to focus on that's not nurse work. Aand if you see any grammar mistakes, please tell me? I'm not a native speaker. (Finnish!) I hope you like these.

_Breathe._

Credence breathes; it's ragged and wheezing, he feels anxiety needling under his skin, making him jittery and trembling. There's cobwebs in his lungs, and it's _difficult_ to focus. ( _nightmare, hissing, clawing, snarling, trapping him, wands flashing magic, my body dissolves, no, no, i'm sorry, please HELP ME - )_

 _Calm down,_ he orders himself, forces himself to breathe evenly. Slowly. In and out. Like he did with Newt.

This part of the suitcase is quiet; glowing with green and gold in the midnight's darkness, Credence unclenches his fingers gripping the fabric on his pajama pants. _Slowly._ Magic hums in his mind, familiar now, comforting almost, like a tune he's long forgotten.

(how did he end up here? Did he just – run here?)

_To safety._

_From nightmares._

  ”Credence?”

 _Newt._ Newt peeks under the enchanted leaves, his hair tousled. He's wearing pajamas.

  ”I – I'm sorry, did I wake you?” Credence says, voice still choked and unsteady. He wrings his hands and settles them into his lap. His fingers are still twitching.

  ”No, no, you didn't – I was just checking on the bowtruckles, it's all right, they're surprisingly active right now, I thought they were being mischievous, but it's all right there, now." He's rambling. Clears his throat, asks worried: "Are _you_ all right?”

  ”A - ” Credence swallows. ”A nightmare.”

Newt doesn't need to ask about it, but he does ask: _(he always asks...)_ ”Do you want me to go? I can, if you'd rather be alone. There is no hurry, at all, take all the time you need.”

  ”P – please don't leave.” It's out of Credence's mouth before his brain can process it, and his eyes widen in alarm. But Newt doesn't recoil, doesn't flinch back. His expression softens, and he nods.

  ”I won't”, Newt says quietly and sits beside him. Credence can feel his warmth, soaking into him, can smell his scent; it's a mix of pine wood and herbs and tea and his work shop. Slowly Credence relaxes, sighs softly and closes his eyes. ”Do you want to talk about it?”

Not really, but Credence is learning. Words tangle and stutter on his tongue, and he manages to say:

  ”Could – could I t – talk about it in the morning?”

  ”Yes, of course.”

Overwhelmed, drained and feeling a bit brave in his exhaustion, Credence drops his head on Newt's shoulder. Newt doesn't flinch, he just rests his cheek on the top of Credence's hair.

  ”Thank you”, Credence murmurs. ”F – for not leaving.”

Newt presses his lips on his hair. ”It's all right...I wouldn't, I'm here.”


	2. good morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: morning kiss

Pale winter light streams in the bedroom between the curtains and hits Credence's face just right, painting gorgeous soft glow on his pale skin, and Newt stares, unable to help himself; Credence is truly an amazing sight, and Newt can't even begin to wonder how in the world he's got so incredibly lucky. He's honored and so impossibly in _love_ it's quite ridiculous, really...

Apparently Credence senses his quite shameless gawking and sleepily opens his eyes.

     ”Mornin'”, he murmurs and grins shyly against the pillow, his dark hair messy.

     ”Good morning”, Newt replies, grinning back, his heart bursting so much affection and _love_ for this wonderful,  _brave_ man _._ Overwhelmed with desire to touch Credence, Newt reaches to brush couple of strands of hair out of Credence's eyes, and Credence leans against it, nuzzling into his palm.

     ”Did you sleep well?”

     ”Mmh”, Credence hums and moves to capture Newt's mouth in a lazy, languid kiss. Automatically Newt's hand moves to the back of Credence's neck, tilts his head and Credence sighs softly. They part, nudge each other with their noses affectionately, quietly enjoying this moment of serenity.

Credence blinks sleepily at him. “What time…what time is it?” he yawns, his eyes drooping again.

Newt tilts his chin gently and kisses him on the nose.

     “About – about nine, I think. Hard to tell with – with the darkness. How about coffee? Would you fancy a cup?”

     “Check under the counter, the…coffee”, Credence mumbles, burying his face into Newt’s shoulder.

     “Oh? The counter, why?” Credence feels like warm weight against him, and Newt nuzzles his temple. “Credence? Are you awake, love?”

     “Mmh. ‘m awake.”

     “Why’s the coffee under the counter?”

Credence yawns again like a cat, wrapping his limbs around Newt, now nearly on his lap.   

     “Threstals…kinda like the beans. They sniffed it…in the case…’d to move it out…”

Newt chuckles, shaking his head in utter amazement and fondness.

     “All right, that’s fair. I’ll go see if we still have some eggs. And coffee beans.”

     “Mmh…thanks…”

Credence’s breathing slows down, as he falls again to sleep. Newt settles him back on bed, ruffles his hair and goes downstairs. Another lovely morning he wouldn’t change for anything.

+


	3. feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: forehead kisses
> 
> I'm not getting out of this fandom.

It happens very quickly. Credence doesn’t mean it to happen, he didn’t even _know_ it _could_ happen, but it has, and it has literally _exploded_ on their faces.

A feather. And not just _any_ feather, a peacock feather, to be more precise. 

Which is now in flames and embers and _ash._

(It was so pretty and shiny with blue and green. Seriously, _why him.)_

A second later, exhaustion sets in like lead weights. Credence slumps forward, heaving tired, wheezing breaths, his chest aching and limbs tired.

Newt scrambles on his feet, his hair messy, and his eyes wide. “Credence? Credence, are you all right?” he asks, worried, making his voice fluttery and deep.

     “’m fine”, Credence says and looks at the feather. Well, what _remains_ of the feather. “Um. I – I’m sorry?”

Newt blinks. “What? No, no, don’t be – we’ve got plenty of those, it’s absolutely _no_ trouble, but that’s _wonderful,_ Credence, you lifted it up!”

     “The feather?” Credence asks, feeling both self-conscious and shy. “Before it bursted into flames?”

     “Quite so”, Newt grins, his dimples showing and he presses his lips gently against Credence’s forehead. “That was a lovely show, Credence.”

     “It was _on fire.”_

     “And it wasn’t even a phoenix’s feather”, Newt adds with amusement and smoothens couple of strands of hair from Credence’s eyes. “You did wonderfully, love.”

     “You – “ Credence gives up. He’s utterly and completely weak against Newt. “Thank you.”

Once again he feels Newt’s lips brush lightly against his forehead and leans into it. Newt murmurs: “So, how about a stroll by the bowtruckle tree?”

     “Another try to get him used to it?” Credence guesses, his eyes crinkling.

     “Yes, well, I’m not giving up. It’s just…going to take a bit of – of time, I suppose. Come on? Shall we give it another try?”

Like it’s even up to questioning. Credence breathes: “Yes.”

Newt helps Credence up on his feet, and they head toward the tree, fingers lacing together.  

+


	4. goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: goodbye kiss

Credence’s hands are trembling. _Damn it,_ he thinks furiously to himself – or he _would,_ if it didn’t _hurt_ so much. They’re standing by a steam boat, and Credence’s determined to fix Newt’s tie.

     “Credence…”

His name _scratches_ Newt’s throat, it’s all sad syllables and vowels and Credence _hurts –_

     “N – no, let me – “

Newt stills; they still have generously time, but Credence _still_ hears _tick-tock_ getting closer and closer.

Credence’s hands are _trembling._ His fingers are numb and clumsy, and _why won’t it work – Newt’s leaving for weeks, and –_

     “Credence.”

Newt takes Credence’s hand into his own; it looks so pale and _weak_ in his scarred, tanned hand, and he rubs gently, so impossibly gently Credence’s knuckles.

     “Your tie is being _stubborn”,_ Credence manages to say, strangled.

Newt’s light eyes search into his, under his messy hair. “I’m afraid it is rather troublesome in that way, I’m sorry…thank you for trying, though”, he murmurs. “Credence…”

     “J – just…send me a – an owl, or _– or_ something, when you get there”, Credence says, and he knows _babbling,_ but _tick-tock_ is getting closer, and Newt’s _leaving,_ and –

      “I will, of course, please, but Credence – “

And in a moment of utter longing, Credence kisses him. It’s just a brush against lips, trembling and _desperate,_ so desperate to _keep,_ to hold. Newt hums against his mouth, lifts his hand to the nape of Credence’s neck and kisses back just as desperately.

Credence’s mind _blanks;_ he has no idea – _what is happening - ?_

He pulls back, eyes wide and wet. “ _Newt?”_

Newt offers him an awkward, silly smile; scarlet color has risen on his freckled cheekbones.

     “I – we do have the most awful timing, don’t we?” he chuckles weakly and reaches to brush gently Credence’s cheek with his thumb. “I’m so sorry, so sorry to – to just _go_ and leave you here _– “_

     “No, you have to. Really, I’m fine – “

     “But I _don’t_ want to, believe me, I’d rather just stay here – “

     “Oh, _no,_ you gotta _go,_ I’ll be here, when you get back – “

Newt kisses him again, like he can’t _help it,_ and Credence _melts_ into him, into his familiar blue coat, into his chest, into the warmth, blissfully realizing just how wonderful this is. That he can _have this._ Newt tastes like _journey_ and _home_ and green tea.

     “Travel safely”, Credence breathes, just a few inches away from Newt’s lips.

     “I – will certainly try.”

Credence laughs wetly. “I guess asking you stay safe is a gamble, when magical beasts are concerned?”

A pause. “I’m _really_ trying?”  

     “…Okay.”

     “I _am._ Three weeks, Credence.”

Credence doesn’t relax, but he accepts it – the horrible, _squeezing_ feeling in his gut has lessened.

     “It will pass quickly”, Newt continues, but it sounds he’s trying to convince himself as much as Credence. “You will barely notice I’m gone.”

Credence doesn’t think that’s very likely. He swallows and says softly: “I’m gonna miss you.”

Newt makes a pained sound.

     “Remember to eat – “ The steam boat’s horn screeches across the wharf, and Newt blinks, startled. “Oh, _bugger – “_

_“_ They’re lifting the anchor, go, go, _Newt!”_

Newt glances at him desperately and kisses him quickly, one more time, before rushing toward the boat, climbs on and waves at him from the deck. Credence looks ahead until the boat disappears.

Until Newt disappears.

He _hopes_ three weeks goes quickly.

+ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two are destroying me. These are sappy and short, ugh, but I'M NOT SORRY.


	5. naps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: naps

They’ve been running, because of course, it's part of the _job._ And with running, it involves burning lungs and dry mouths _,_ and after _running and spells and_ fighting, they’ve managed to free wild nifflers from a poacher’s camp. After that, they slipped away and freed the nifflers into a safer location, and Credence doesn’t remember undressing or collapsing on their bed in the case, but that’s how it happens; it’s early morning, when they finally manage to get that far.  

They pass out almost immediately and they sleep for hours and hours and _hours._ When Credence wakes up, he’s disoriented, dizzy and confused – and he realizes he’s tangled against Newt, his cheek resting against Newt’s chest.

Newt’s fingers comb slowly in his hair, and it feels so pleasant that Credence’s eyes begin to droop again.

     “Are you awake…?” Newt murmurs, his voice deliciously rough and low and _gravel_ in the comfortable silence of the room.

Credence nods, burying his face deeper into Newt's shirt. “Mmh-hmm.”

     “It appears we have slept for fourteen hours…”

     “Oh.”

     “I don’t think I can…quite move yet.”

     “I don’t think I _want_ to move yet.”

     “Yes, that, too.”

Newt brushes a light kiss on his forehead, it’s a _I’m happy you are here_ kiss, and in response, Credence lifts his hand and laces his fingers with Newt’s, long and scarred, intertwining, and together, they doze off again.


	6. flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so SAPPY, holy shit. I'm not sorry. (okay, i'm a bit sorry.)

The sun feels warm on Credence's bare skin. It paints the English countryside gold and yellow and red and orange, all shining and dim and _beautiful._ The crisp air fills Credence's lungs, and he breathes, _breathes, breathes_ deeply until he's sure his bones are creaking in his thin frame with _all of it_. It doesn't leave a choking, rusty taste on his tongue, it's just... _clean_ and pure _. (almost like he could be.)_

     ”What are you thinking...?”

Newt rests his head on Credence's lap. His eyes are closed, and the light falls on his features, painting a gorgeous pattern on his freckles.

     ”Just how...how peaceful it is”, Credence replies, his long fingers combing through Newt's unruly hair, fingertips brushing gently against Newt's scalp. Newt sighs softly, hums and opens his eyes to gaze up at Credence.

Credence thinks he’ll never get used to _that_ look; that look, full of affection, so bright and genuine, so dangerously close to adoration that it still seizes Credence’s lungs, making him dizzy.

     “Would you bow your head down, please?”

Credence blinks. “What?”

Newt grins so incredibly softly. “Bow down, please”, he says and gestures him to come closer. Once upon a time, Credence would have been deathly afraid of a prank, of ridicule, but not today, not _now._ Because this is Newt, and Credence _trusts_ and loves Newt with all of his being, heart and soul.

So, curiously Credence obeys and lowers his head toward Newt. Newt lifts his hand and –

\- puts a daisy behind Credence’s ear.

     “You look wonderful, dear”, Newt murmurs, and he has that _look_ again, adoring and _gentle,_ and this time, Credence can’t help himself and kisses Newt slowly and sweetly. Newt grins into the kiss, their lips moving together in lazy, familiar way.

     “Sneaky, Newt.”

     “Maybe a little. But you look like heaven to me.”

Credence laughs. “Now you’re being sappy.”

     “Absolutely _not,_ truthful, completely honest, I’m telling you.”

     “Mmh.” Credence picks up a daisy beside the blanket and tickles Newt’s nose with it’s petals. Newt crunches his nose playfully and Credence threads the flower into Newt’s messy hair. “Do you mind matching?”

Summer’s light reflects from Newt’s eyes, making them bright green. “Not _ever,_ quite possibly”, he murmurs and brushes Credence’s lips with his thumb. “May I have another one, please?”

+


	7. comfort

     “I frighten you. Y – you’re scared of me.”

     “Never.”

     “You _should_ be”, Credence whimpers, his cheeks wet with tears, lips quivering.

     “I am _not.”_

     “I’m – I’m dangerous, I’m a _monster – “_

     “Credence. Look at me, please. Would you please look at me?” Newt murmurs, and Credence’s terrified eyes find Newt’s; the anchor in a storm, in turmoil, in _agony._ “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. What you have suffered is unimaginable and horrifying and I’m so impossibly sorry you had to go through it so long alone. But it wasn’t your fault, you didn’t deserve it, _never,_ _none of it,_ it doesn’t make you a monster and I am _not_ afraid of you.” A pause. “I care for you, I am here for you no matter what happens. You do _not_ scare me.”

Credence’s breathing hitches.

Newt continues with quiet determination: “You are a beautiful human being. Even after what you have endured, you are still kind, still gentle, still full of compassion. You amaze me every single day, and I’m grateful and honoured to be your friend. And I will be _here_ for you, no matter _what_.”

Credence closes his eyes, trembling.

     “Please believe me”, Newt murmurs, his voice raw and _sincere._

Blindly, still eyes closed, Credence grabs Newt’s hand and squeezes, _and breathes:_ “Thank you.”

+


	8. clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic series has officially turned into a sap monster.

Morning light sieves between curtains onto their bedroom’s floor, and Credence wakes up. He’s not sure what woke him up, but he feels cosy, _comfortable;_ sweet warmth seeps into his muscles.

 _It’s strange,_ he thinks, waking up without feeling that knot-like dread on the pit of his stomach, rising up to choke him. Waking up without gnawing, _painful anxiety._ He still can’t believe that this is his life now. That he has a new beginning. With Newt.

Speaking of Newt, Credence realizes – with a hint of amusement – Newt’s still in the bed.

Normally Newt’s the one who gets up first, ready to feed the creatures, but today, he’s practically _dead_ to the world. His arm is resting on Credence’s waist as a solid, warm weight, and Credence takes a few moments to admire his face. He never gets tired of looking at Newt; his skin glows all tan and gold, and Credence’s finger tips brush against his lovely high cheekbones. Newt senses the touch, hums in contentment, and leans closer.

Credence grins and gets up; his body feels languid and _lazy_ in a pleasant, tingling way. He picks up a shirt from the floor – a rather familiar shirt. Newt’s undershirt. Feeling brave, stupidly _happy,_ Credence slips it on and marvels it for a moment; he’s still on the skinny side and the shirt’s a bit big for him, but he doesn’t mind; it smells like Newt, _it’s safety, comfort, home, love, love, love,_ and grinning to himself, Credence heads downstairs.

He’s just finished boiling eggs, when Newt comes downstairs; he’s found another shirt, his hair is a mess, sticking in all directions, and he still looks sleepily indifferent to the world.

     “Mornin’”, Credence greets him, warm affection flooding into him.

     “Good m – “ Newt trails off blinking when he realizes what Credence’s wearing and blinks. “Is that – Credence, is that my shirt?”

     “Yeah? Is that okay?”

Newt’s cheeks flush crimson, and he looks adorably flustered. “No, I don’t mind – I mean, _yes,_ it’s more than all right – it – “ he swallows, and Credence follows fascinated the way his Adam’s apple twitches. “It suits you. The – the shirt, I mean”, he fumbles and gestures the garment in question.

     “Yeah?”

Newt’s gaze returns to him, like a magnet. “Yes”, he murmurs with a shy grin, steps closer and lowers his hands on Credence’s waist, his thumbs drawing comforting circles on his skin. “You look lovely.”

     “I – I _think_ you are _so_ saying that because of the shirt”, Credence laughs breathlessly.

     “You always look lovely.”

      “Yeah, well, I still think you’re biased”, Credence remarks, amused and fixes Newt’s shirt collar.

     “ _No,_ you can essentially swat people away with a _broom_  when we visit Diagon Alley – “

     “I’m – _pretty_ sure they’re lookin’ at you. Published author.” Newt opens his mouth – probably to protest _that,_ but Credence interrupts: “D’you want tea? We’ve still got that one with lemongrass left, enough for maybe a few cups?”

     “Oh, yes, please, dear.” Newt bows his head slightly and presses a sweet kiss on Credence’s mouth; slow and _safe._ “I think it’s a bit big on you, though.”

     “The lemongrass?”

     “The _shirt,_ Credence.”

Creence beams and can’t help himself and _kisses_ him.  

\+  


	9. nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need Credence to be happy. Seriously. If the next movies screw him over, I'll be so heartbroken and angry.

_Save me –_

_Help me, please, please help me –_

It echoes in Newt’s skull, rattling, _breaking,_ helplessness, agony tearing through his chest, _Credence –_

 _Newt?_ Tina. Tina’s voice. _Save him!_

Newt buries his fingers into his hair, heartbreak choking his _voice_ into his throat, and he can’t, _he’s racing through rooftops,_ chasing, chasing after the Obscurial, _after Credence, who deserves everything –_

_CREDENCE WAIT, CAN I COME OVER TO YOU, PLEASE LET ME HELP, PLEASE, PLEASE –_

It happens so fast, _he wants to help – Grindelwald has to go through me to get to him, there’s no way he’s going to hurt Credence, over my dead body –_

     “Newt?”

Newt jumps into a sitting position, glancing wildly around, _into darkness –_

And realizes that he’s not in the subway. He’s in their bedroom. _Their bedroom._ Credence’s lying beside him, leaning against his elbow, and he looks worried at Newt. In the pale moonlight, his grown, softly curling hair shines ink black.  

     “ _Credence_ – “ Newt brushes Credence’s jaw with a trembling hand. He needs to make sure. “You’re – are you all right?”

Something in Credence’s gaze softens, and he leans against Newt’s touch. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you? Did – did you have a nightmare?”

_Nightmare –_

_Yes, but -_ it _was_ real. It really _happened._

     “D’you wanna talk about it?” Credence asks quietly, his thumb stroking the back of Newt’s hand.

Newt’s throat burns as he cradles Credence’s head with his palm. It’d been so _close._ Credence had nearly _died._ He had suffered so much, been in so much _pain,_ been through so much, and he had nearly _died_ in the subway _._

Yet, he’s here; looking at Newt with such worry, such warmth, _gentleness…_

Newt hesitates, but he doesn’t want to lie to him. “It was New York. I – I dreamt of New York.”

Credence doesn’t stiffen, he doesn’t pull back. Instead, he just tilts his head.

     “Okay”, he just says, simply, accepting it.

Newt swallows.

     “You almost died, Credence.”

     “But I didn’t”, Credence murmurs. “You tried so hard to help me, Newt.”

     “And I _failed._ They hurt you, they nearly _killed_ you – and you just wanted peace. Credence – “

Credence presses his head on the crook between Newt’s neck and shoulder; he feels comforting, warm, _alive,_ and Newt slowly relaxes into him.

     “It’s okay, Newt, you found me before they did”, he murmurs against Newt’s skin. Newt swallows again, clings to those words and wraps his arms tightly around Credence, pulling him closer. He can hear Credence’s heart beat, he can _feel_ the gentle rise and fall of his chest. “Everything’s okay. We’re okay.”

Newt kisses Credence’s forehead, smoothens back his unruly hair and just _holds_ him. He’s viscerally, _painfully_ aware just how close it had been, that they never would have gotten here.

A chance. So easy to overlook.

 If –

     “Stop worrying”, Credence says quietly, but Newt can hear a smile in his voice. “No point in suffering twice?”

Newt’s heart _melts._ Relief surges into him. _Credence’s – oh, this wonderful man – he’s trying to lighten the mood._

     “I – I think I may have _heard_ that one before, yes.”

     “Mmh-hmm. Like, last week, when you ran after a griffin who’d mauled _two men_.”

     “Yes, well… no, never mind, I have no defense.” 

Chuckling weakly, Newt tilts Credence chin ever so slightly, gazes into Credence’s dark, half-lidded eyes and kisses him slowly.

Credence hums, smiles into the kiss.

     “Let’s go back to sleep? Okay?” he asks, brushing his nose tenderly against Newt’s. Newt nods, adjusts his position on the bed so Credence can rest comfortably on his chest, and they drift off, curled into each other, fingers intertwined.    

It’s okay.


	10. tantrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this has been sitting in my folder for weeks. Short and no plot. Life in the suitcase.

     “Newt…?”

Credence peeks into the yard and carefully adjusts a full basket in his arms.

     “Just a moment! Pickett, _honestly,_ they are _not_ making fun of you, we went through this – “

Newt’s currently negotiating with Pickett, or that’s what it looks like. Pickett is very obviously not having whatever Newt’s telling him; the bowtruckle’s _huffing_. Credence approaches them quietly, sets the basket down and sits beside him on the grass.

Newt flashes a smile at him before turning to Pickett: “No, I quite mean it, Pickett, another try. You promised, we made a deal.” Pickett squeaks rather rudely and seems to _boil_ with utter annoyance, as Newt puts him back on the tree branch. “See? All fine.”

     “Doesn’t seem to think so”, Credence points out with amusement as he rummages through the basket.

     “No, he’s not pleased, but Pickett, you promised. We’ll try tomorrow again”, Newt adds firmly to the sulking bowtruckle, who retreats into the tree with a huff.

     “Is he okay?”

     “He’s being very stubborn, but yes. He might – also – pull a prank on me tomorrow, which I probably won’t see coming, but nonetheless, it’s progress, that’s what I call it. Oh, that smells amazing.”

     “Did you finish your round?” Credence asks and hands Newt a sandwich. “Lunch.” 

     “Oh, thank you, that looks wonderful. Is this salmon?

     “Smoked, yeah. I couldn’t get chicken, sorry.” 

     ”No, no, it’s brilliant. And um, yes, to answer your question – had to finally finish modifying Frank’s old place, so that’s where _most_ of my time went – nifty little charms, those – then Pickett decided he was bored, and well, you caught the last of _that.”_

     “Is he gonna be okay?”

Newt pauses and gazes Credence with such soft warmth that Credence has to focus on his own sandwich, his ears turning pink.

     “Yes”, Newt finally says and takes a bite. “It’ll require a large amount of patience and kindness, but…yes. I’m certain he is. Change is rarely easy.”

Credence’s cheeks heat up, and he looks away, flustered. He remembers what _he_ was like, when they first arrived to England all those months ago; he’d been so anxious, so nervous, terrified that Newt would hate him, would grow tired of him, he’d been _waiting_ for Newt to order him away…

But it never happened.

     “Something on your mind there, love?” Newt asks, his voice pleasantly low, his attention firmly on Credence.  

     “Just – thinkin’. About when we first came here”, Credence says and takes a bite of his sandwich.

Newt nods. “Any – any particular thoughts about that?”

     “Many, thanks”, Credence says, but he’s smiling. “Just…thinkin’ how I once thought no way this would be possible for me. To – to be free. To be away from t – _them.”_

_That someone cared for me like you do._  

Newt’s sandwich pauses in mid-air; his pale eyes examine Credence curiously – and then, a sweet smile curls on his lips. He ducks his head shyly.  

     “I’m – I am very glad to hear it, Credence. I’m happy you are here, too.”


	11. realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Credence's beauty and smarts completely obliterate Newt.

Newt’s doom occurs on one dreary morning on a very normal Tuesday.

He probably should’ve seen it coming, _at some point,_ but of course, he didn’t, and thus, he’s _here._ Having a heart attack in their kitchen. Credence's sitting by the table and being completely engrossed by Pickett's silly antics. Newt stops.  _Freezes._

The dawn’s pale sunlight casts a _halo_ around Credence, dying his hair into glossy raven, blue hues; his hair curls softly around his face, and his long lashes fan above the artful cheekbones, and _oh._

Newt’s heart stops, crashes, _jolts_ and he’s got trouble breathing.

Yes, a heart attack, _absolutely._

And he still can’t stop _staring_ at Credence.

 _Oh, bugger. Oh, no._ He is in _so_ deep trouble.

Credence realizes that he’s being gawked at and looks up curiously – and _smiles_ at him _._ His eyes crinkle into dark crescents. 

Newt’s heart _melts._ Affection, raw, warm, _fierce_ floods into Newt, and he knows without a doubt that he would die for this man, willingly spill his blood for him, if it meant Credence would live, _would be happy._

     “Newt?”

Credence sounds curious, amused.

Newt’s cheeks turn crimson, and he clears his throat awkwardly. “I – yes, uh, never mind, sorry.”

     “Are you okay?” Credence gets up, worried and Newt’s momentarily stunned by his beauty. _Oh, Merlin, he’s in trouble. So, so much._

     “Yes”, he says a little too quickly. No, he can’t – can’t deal with his very inconvienent feelings, not right now, _absolutely not._ Credence doesn’t need them burdening him, no, never.

Credence tilts his head. “Oh. Um, Pickett’s showed up in – in my room a while ago, so sorry if – if you were lookin’ for him, he’s been keepin’ me company?”

     “Wonderful, that’s good”, Newt replies, still a little floored with his realization of _not-so platonic feelings for Credence._

Credence grins shyly, ducking his head. “He’s so cute.”

_So are you._

     “I’m sure he appreciates the compliment, Credence. I – uh, will go to the case to – have you seen mistletoe berries, by any chance?” He has  _no_ idea what he's rambling about. 

Credence’s smile becomes so _fond._ “Saw them last on the – the third shelf in your workshop." He hesitates. "Are you making antidote for Common Poisons?”

And Newt gapes.

If he ever had any doubts about his feelings, they all vanish.

     “You’ve – you’ve been reading?” he asks hoarsely, staring at him.

Credence’s high cheekbones turn very faint rosy red. “…yeah. It was just a wild guess, though, but…it’s so interesting, I could read like…all night."

     “Would you…like to help me, maybe?”

     “Can I?”

     “Of course. It’s sometimes terribly boring, but I will try to explain if you have any questions.”

Credence beams. And Newt is _still_ in so much trouble.


	12. tired parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get back into writing, soooo hence this.

Credence is ready to pass out, but his body is running so hard on adrenaline and nerves he physically unable, even if he could.

His eyes burn and sting and he's pretty sure he can't quite see straight.

They've had an hour of decent sleep until their new baby Niffler woke them up, wailing and crying with the most heartbreaking sobs that Credence has ever heard in his life. The poor guy suffered from fever and nausea and after three hours of healing, mixing ingredients, brewing potions and worry-shredded nerves, the Niffler's finally calming down. Credence runs a mental list in his head, checking and weighing options; _is there anything else he can do, maybe he can fetch something, did he forget something..._

     "No, you didn't, you were marvelous, love", Newt murmurs softly, and Credence realizes he's talking aloud. Newt smiles, and it's so _tired_. He tickles the baby Niffler under the chin. The baby blinks sluggishly and purrs, content.

     "Sorry...d'you reckon we need another potion? I - " Credence yawns so hard it makes his jaw ache, " - I can go make him another."

Newt's eyes shine in the dim nightlight they keep nearby, warm, affectionate, very nearly adoring. "No, no...I - I think he's all right, now. Poor fellow", he murmurs and the creature burrows into Newt's stomach, breathing slower and steadier. A moment later, Newt relaxes, exhales. "He's asleep. At last."

Relieved, Credence slumps against Newt's side. Newt leans in and presses a soft kiss on Credence's mouth. It's quiet, deep in it's own intimate way; a moment they share with each other. They are both exhausted to the bone, anchor heavy and lethargic, and they take comfort in each other's presence.

     "Go back to sleep, Credence", Newt murmurs, resting his forehead against Credence's.

     "'fter we tuck him in..."

He feels rather than hears Newt's quiet laughter. It's so pleasant, so comforting, calming vibrations under Credence's touch.

They tuck the baby Niffler in a soft basket that's currently serving as his sickbed, check that he's comfortable under a home-made blanket, and then they fall on their bed, searching each other in the dark and settling side by side, back against chest.

It's hard, being a parent.


	13. party

It’s been a long night, and Newt is very certain his nerves are nothing but frayed and shredded threads at this point.

Credence looks absolutely stunning. Of course, his utter kindness and serenity are what draw Newt much more than his raven black hair, shy soft smile and high cheekbones that are like carved from white marble, but that’s completely and utterly beside the point.

There’s a slight quirk of Credence’s lips, teasing, mischievous in his quiet way that disarms and melts Newt, every single time, always.

He catches Newt looking, and Credence winks.

Newt’s breathing hitches.

 _Oh, that sneaky devil_.

(Oh, how Newt adores him.)

Credence probably senses Newt’s gawking, because he excuses himself and nods to a plump witch dressed in an expensive robe who is apparently one of Goldstein relatives, and heads toward Newt.

     ”Hi”, he says softly, his lips turning into a gentle smile.

     ”Hello. Are you enjoying yourself?”

Credence’s dark eyes drift to Newt’s own, deep and beautiful like an ocean. ”I am, kinda - although I’d be at home, way more”, he murmurs and adjusts Newt’s lapels, his fingers lingering on Newt’s tanned skin, just under the collar. ”D’you think that’s rude? Polite? Think we can leave?”

     ”Yes, of course, we’ll just tell Queenie our thanks – ”

Credence kisses him. It’s nothing scandalous – just a brush against the lips, light and chaste, but definitely romantic. Or to be fair, that was at least their intent and purpose; Newt hums against Credence’s mouth in relief and in pleasure - it feels good to have him close, to share this deep, loving, trusting connection with him. The kiss turns hungrier, more filthy and open-mouthed, and Newt’s extremely glad they are currently in an alcove, convienently shielded from curious eyes.

     ”You’ve been driving me quite mad this evening, Credence”, Newt says, his voice rougher and hoarser than usual, consonants scratching his throat.

Credence pulls back, just a bit so he can rest his forehead against Newt’s. ”Yeah?” He sounds absolutely pleased about it, too.  

     ”Mmh-hmm.” Newt’s hand - hot and calloused - lowers to the small of Credence’s back and rests it there, as a safe weight. There’s not a lot of space between their bodies, and it’s comforting in a sense; just hold and be close. ”You look very lovely.”

     ”Thanks. You, too. The blue looks so good on you, y’know.”

     ”Oh, that’s very kind of you to say.”

     “I think that great-aunt was thinkin’ so too.”

     “Oh,  _bugger."_

     “Uh huh.”

     “I had eyes…for someone else than her, darling. Someone who happens to be the love of my life, I'd say."

Rosy flush spreads on Credence’s cheeks, and Newt follows how it spreads down his neck in fond fascination; even after all this time, it’s still endearing and  _everything._

     “You’re awful”, Credence mumbles weakly, but he can’t help but to grin.

     “For complimenting you, is that it?” Newt asks, amused. “I’m afraid I won’t stop that until the day I die.”

     “ _Newt!”_

Newt chuckles at Credence’s indignant tone, tilts Credence’s head back and presses a quick, gentle kiss on his lips.  

The kiss drags on, changes; scorching heat returns  with boiling force into their veins, and they move slowly, tongues sliding together in easy familiarity, casual intimacy.

     ”We can leave, right?” Credence asks, his hands resting on Newt’s chest.

     ”Mmh. One more?”

Credence giggles breathlessly and practically slumps against Newt in his hurry to kiss him again.


	14. defense

Generally speaking Newt loathes violence. It's unnecessary, it's _damaging,_ it's solves absolutely _nothing -_

_"Ya cock-suckin' little prick - "_

But this time, Newt sees red.

He moves without thinking between Credence and one extremely unpleasant, persisting annoyance, whose _had too much alcohol as well -_

     "Newt", Credence says, sounding surprising and nervous. "It's okay - "

     "It is not", Newt says, his voice rough and tense, staring coldly at the man in front of them. "Apologize to him, if you _do not mind."_

The man laughs in disbelief, his breath's smelling like vodka and cigarettes. "You gotta be kidding! No way, 'm just tellin' the truth, no shame in that is there, at least more 'n you, makin' eyes like that in _public."_

     "I don't see how that's any of your business." 

     "If I gotta look at a disgrace, it fuckin' is - "

Hot-red colour throbs behind Newt's eyelids, and in the next moment the man is lying on the ground, and Newt's knuckles hurt.

     "He is the most decent, bravest man I have ever met", Newt grits out, his tone low and dangerous, and Credence looks stunned.

     "Oh, _geeze - "_

People laugh and chatter picks up again; Credence grabs their coats quickly and drags Newt out to the crisp winter night.

     "What the hell was that?" he asks, when they've walked a few streets away from the pub.

     "I won't apologize", Newt says, but now his cheeks have turned red. "He was extremely inappropriate and rude, said _terrible_ things to you, and I will never _not_ act in your defense - "

     "So you gotta punch his lights out?" Credence asks slightly amused as they stop under yellow flickering street lights.

Newt clears his throat awkwardly and shifts his weight to other leg. "It was less than...well executed, yes."

     "I dunno, got your message through, maybe?"

     "Do you think so? Seemed like a stubborn fellow." A beat. "Did I scare you?"

Credence's fingers pause on Newt's coat buttons, and he looks up, surprised.

     "What?"

Newt gestures clumsily back at the pub. "Did I scare you? Punching that - that chap, I mean. It... I was - I mean, it's not usually how I proceed, I know - "

     "Newt. You tried, okay? You tried to get him to back down first with _words",_ Credence rushes to say and flattens his palm on Newt's chest. He can feel Newt's heart racing under the shirt. "He didn't back down."  

Slowly Newt relaxes under Credence's familiar touch, takes Credence's hand and presses a tender kiss on the palm.

     "He was so, very wrong."

Credence's ink-dark gaze finds Newt's, in the street's shadows. "He was?" he asks softly, his lips turning upwards into a gentle smile.

     "He _was,_ absolutely was. You are the kindest person I have ever met, Credence, I don't know how you do it, how strong and _kind,_ and I'm so humbled to see you smiling at me each day." He presses another slow kiss on Credence's wrist. "And - and I can't believe it's me you are smiling at. Seems rather like a fool's dream, that, now isn't it."

     "I don't think so", Credence murmurs, his cheekbones turning into a fetching shade of rose. "You make me happy." A pause. "Even if you're punching people."

Newt laughs, the sound low and husky in his throat, and he presses his cold nose against Credence's.

     "To - to my defense, he _did_ deserve it..."

     "Yeah, 'm not saying otherwise, he totally did." Credence smiles playfully against Newt's lips. "Thank you."

     "You - you're welcome. I will _always_ defend you", Newt whispers.

     "One of your vices", Credence laughs breathlessly and squeaks, when Newt pulls him forward by the hips and kisses him.

Just a press of lips; just comfort, sharing of this moment, intimate and playful on it's own.


	15. after a battle

The battle has ravaged and torn the meadows; magic flashes, _red, blue, yellow, pink -_ and then it fades into a _dim glow._

Credence stumbles through charred grass, his legs are shaking, he's dizzy, _exhausted,_ adrenaline burns in his blood.

     "Newt?" he gasps looking wildly around the meadow. "Newt?"

He spots Queenie, in her dirty dress robe, her hair sticking in every direction, and she's casting a healing spell on Tina, who seems to be better since she keeps grumbling about it.

But where's _Newt?_

     " _Newt?"_  

Why, why , _how_ is it that everytime they try to help creatures it always turns out like this? It's been a while since this kind of aggressive fighting has erupted; poachers with rather extensive abilities, _monsters, humans -_

     "Here! _Credence!"_

_There!_

Credence turns wildly and sees Newt racing towards him across the meadow; he's got a nasty gash on his cheek. Credence meets him in half-way; they crash into each other, arms wrapped around, _clinging_ and embracing, _no space between_ them; Credence can smell Newt's coat, his cologne, _something like purely Newt,_ and _he's so relieved -_

     "Are you okay?"

     " - of course, I'm fine, let me look at you - are there any wounds, are you hurt?"

     "No! Oh, your cheek, can - can I heal it?"

He always asks.

Newt's gaze softens; green, hazel, gold-speckled. "Yes, of course", he murmurs, his calloused fingers brushing tenderly Credence's jaw. "Be my guest."

Snorting at that, _God, Newt, you're unbelievable,_ Credence focuses, visualizes the spell, and comforting golden glow spreads on Newt's wound. Newt relaxes, leans into the touch.

Credence's wandless, _wordless_ magic has always been an unpredictable, wild thing, but _healing..._ healing is a different thing. Kinder and softer.

     "Does that hurt...? Sorry..."

     "No, dear."

     "Okay, hold on, it's soon ready..."

Newt gazes at him, affection bare and warm. "You are very good at this, Credence."

Credence flushes. "Oh God, you're _del_ _irious",_ he mumbles.

Newt chuckles. "Or maybe - and I find this explanation more likely, if you don't mind - your compassion and kindness are an extremely compatible force."

     "As compared to Obscurus, yeah?"

     "Kind of,  _yes_ in a manner. But Obscrurial is not an evil force, either so...Oh, there we go."

     "Does it hurt? Feel sore, maybe?"

     "Tad sensitive, that's all. Marvellous work, darling."

Credence beams back. Newt leans in and closes the distance between them. The kiss is full of relief, intimate familiarity.

     "Everything all right?"

     "Mmh."

It's _good,_ no matter what the trouble and danger and hardships, it's still their _life._


	16. silliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning and silliness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't care; I needed silly happiness and mornings. Probably a prompt I've done a hundred times, but you may try to rip it from my cold dead hands. (Plus I want Credence to be praised like as often as possible. By Newt.)

     ”You are very handsome”, Newt comments with such off-handed admiration that Credence is completely unprepared for it - as he has been for the last three years. (He’ll probably never get used to it).

Rosy blush flushes on Credence’s cheeks, spreads down to his slender neck. ”You’re insane”, he mutters into his coffee.

     ”More or less, but I do think the way you blush is adorable.”

     ”Newt!”

     ”What?”

Newt grins, all lop-sided and affectionate. The morning light glows on his hair as a mahogany halo, and he sits on the edge of their bed, watching  Credence with such warm fondness and adoration, _God forbid._

     ”You’re _so_ biased”, Credence feels necessary to point out.

     ”Doesn’t mean it’s not true, now does it?” Newt counters, amused.

     ”You’re _awful_ , how about you counter that.”

 Newt gets up from the bed, still sleepy warm and naked, and wraps his arms firmly around Credence’s hips, pulls him closer and buries his face into Credence’s nape.

     ”Well, you can hardly blame me for thinking that way”, the wizard murmurs with rough voice and presses a slow, sensual kiss on the back of Credence’s neck, then down his spine. “You’re all handsome and brilliant, always being kind and absolutely marvellous...”

     ”Yeah, well, you’re weird that way, eye for weirdne - ” Credence’s sentence breaks into joyous laughter, when Newt playfully dips him and kisses him on the mouth.

They both grin into it, just silliness and love in that average morning.

+


End file.
